Alone
by croll
Summary: What Pippin goes through when he is torn from Merry in the Return of the King. One shot.


Pippin wasn't sure what was going on. He was being rushed towards a stable. Gandalf was shouting brisk orders and surely he was explaining what was going on. But that didn't mean Pippin knew what was going on. Merry was angrily storming after the hobbit and the wizard; he was rebuking his friend for being so dense. But that certainly didn't enlighten Pippin one bit.

In Pippins mind he was simply continuing the adventure. He thought that Merry was coming along and that this would just give them more time together. But he was so wrong.

The reality went like this. He was being punished. Merry was being left behind and he had to leave with Gandalf. They were being separated.

As Gandalf ordered Shadofax to run everything became clear. Pippin began to panic.

Pippins POV

No! Wait! This isn't right!

"Merry!" I cried out, it was more of a question than anything. What was going on? Why? Why couldn't Merry come?

My eyes filled with tears as I realized that I might never see my best friend again. My heart jumped and throbbed inside of my chest. Merry grew smaller and smaller in the distance. I closed my eyes and tried to remember better days. I had thought this journey had finally taken a turn for the better, but then my senseless curiosity had spoiled everything. This was it. I was heading into war and anguish and my greatest support beam had just been wrenched from my side.

I was unstable. Surely I would crash at any moment. I felt hollow. There was no point in trying any more. I was alone.

It was a long painful journey. Not painful physically, but emotionally.

I arrived and my stupid mouth had received a mind of its own once again. I was then bound to Denethor, the vilest and most revolting man I'd ever encountered. I was bound to serve him.

He made me sing. I sang. I sang for Merry and I wondered whether he was alive or not. I sang for Frodo and Samwise and wondered the same. I sang for myself as I crumbled into nothingness in this white city. I did not feel pure. I did not feel whole. I felt empty. I was alone.

Gondor was attacked. I was in a death zone. I blanched as I took in my surroundings: deathly wicked beings fought terrified men. Scattered in the courtyard, the halls, and the streets lay the dead and the dying. The stench of death and blood filled my senses. I was surrounded by decay and violence. I wanted to help. But surely I would only get in the way. Yet I didn't move. I stood in the chaos. I cried in the chaos. I was alone.

Later I found myself chasing Denethor and his men up to the highest tower. He was a fool! A flaming idiot! Faramir his son lived! Surely he must realize this! I tried and tried to convince him to consider his actions. I beseeched him on hands and knees to reconsider. It was no good. Denethor threw me out of the chamber and declared my release. I knelt shocked. I should be happy to be free of this filthy man, but all I felt was remorse. I could save no one. I looked out over the city as it burnt. I was alone.

I sought out and claimed the attention of Gandalf. Surely he could save Faramir. We raced up the steps and into the chamber. Denethor raged at me, stepping forward menacingly, but Gandalf intervened. The man set himself ablaze and leapt onto his dying son. I stood frozen with horror, but only for a moment. I scrambled onto the pyre and rolled Faramir away from the flames. I had done it. I'd saved the boy. Glancing up I jolted with shock. Denethor had just bounded off the tower. I could only save one, and maybe not even that. Faramir was deathly still and his breath was shallow. Gandalf had returned to the battle. Once again it struck me. I was alone.

After the battle I joined the others as we ran out to meet the others. There stood Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. A group of Rohan soldiers were carrying a severely injured Eowyn towards Minus Tirith. Théoden lay dead as did many others. My heart began to pound as I searched frantically for Merry. It was then I saw a small hobbit hand sticking out from underneath a fallen orc. Trembling in fear I pushed with all of my might to remove the brute. There lay my closest friend, Meriadoc Brandybuck. I was alone.

Then it happened. He twitched. To my joy and astonishment he twitched. Merri was alive! I cried out his name in utter mirth as I reached out to embrace my fallen comrade. He hugged back just as fiercely before going limp in my arms.

I brought Merry back to Minus Tirith and waited valiantly by his side. Finally, he awoke.

"Pippin," he uttered my name softly and I was completely attentive.

"Oh Merry," I replied, "I thought I'd lost you."

Merry smiled.

"Never again, Pippin, I'll never let you leave me again. I won't leave you neither," he vowed in all seriousness.

I sat back and tried to blink away the tears pooling painfully in my eyes. I knew he spoke the truth. I was not alone.


End file.
